The Master Auror
by MySoapBox
Summary: Harry Potter and Hermione Weasley work together to solve a case of disturbing burglaries that have the Aurors baffled, Rose struggles with forbidden love and Hugo has fallen in with some suspicious new friends. Mild Harmony, Rose/Scorpious -Abandoned for now-
1. The Master Auror

_Note: Set 32 years after book seven, this fic accepts HP books 1-7. It does not, however, take into account subequent post-book statments by the author._

**The Master Auror**

**By MySoapBox**

**I The Master Auror**

* * *

Forty-nine year old Harry Potter walked determinedly up the white stone steps to Gringotts bank, his lips pressed into a fine line. He yanked open the large bronze door, not waiting for the goblins that stood guard there. There was something about the middle aged man in billowing black robes, something about the way the magic eddied around him, that seemed to warn them to keep their distance.

As Harry entered the spacious lobby, a man looked up from where he stood conversing with a small group of wizards and witches. "Potter?" the man called out, offering his apologies to the group, and offering his hand to Harry in greeting. "I didn't know you were coming. Or are you here just to check up on me?" he asked, a small hint of worry in his voice.

"Not at all, Morton," Harry replied shortly. "It seems the Minister promised the President of Gringotts that he would have his "top man" on the job and I guess that means me." Harry raised and lowered his arms in a frustrated gesture.

"Honestly Harry, I'm not sure that my team needs to be in on this at all. It seems like a simple case for Magical Law Enforcement."

"An attempted break-in at Gringotts is never a 'simple case', Harry replied. _Especially when everything having to do with Gringotts is hip deep in politics, _he silently added.

"So true," said a young man in scarlet and gold robes who approached them, a little edge to his voice. "I believe the last successful break-in here was over 30 years ago. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, it was you, Mr. Potter, who committed that break-in." He stopped in front of the two older men, his lips showing no expression but there was a little darkness in his green eyes as he looked at Harry.

Harry noticed that the young man seemed taller than he remembered. His red hair clashed with the Gringotts scarlet. And for a moment the sight of him took Harry's breath away. He looked so much like Ron. Harry saw the resemblance when he was just a boy, but now that he was a man, the similarities were uncanny.

Morton shot the younger man a warning look and then with an excusing smile said, "Mr. Potter, this is Hugo Weasley, a vault-charmer here at Gringotts and one of the most gifted young wizards at charms I've ever seen."

"So I hear - every time I see his mother," Harry replied extending his hand to Hugo. Hugo did not move to take it. _So that's how it's going to be_, Harry thought.

Morton looked back and forth between Harry and the stone faced Weasley.

"Hugo and I go way back," Harry explained dropping his hand. "So Hugo, what do you think of this attempted break-in?" Harry asked.

"I've done every revealing spell I know of, and I've found no traces of dark magic. In fact I've found no traces of magic at all, other than what you would normally expect. How they ever penetrated that deeply into the underground passageways is a mystery. It was only the new charms on the vault doors that seemed to be their undoing. "

"And there are no other obvious signs of break-in, no large holes in the wall, no missing dragons?"

If Hugo got the joke he didn't let on. "None. All employees have been questioned under veritaserum," Harry's eyes widened in surprise, "per Gringotts policy and their employment contracts," Hugo offered in explanation, "and no one seems to know anything."

"Amazing," Harry said, mostly to himself. "And what was held in the vaults they were trying to access?"

Hugo turned to look past the tables to the tunnel entrance that led down to the vaults and Harry couldn't help himself but to follow Hugo's gaze. "Gold, Mr. Potter. Only gold. And lots of it."

* * *

Later that afternoon, behind a door marked "Master Auror" Harry sat behind a highly polished oak desk staring down at a pile of parchment while absently rubbing the bridge of his nose. Although he hadn't had to wear glasses in over twenty years, he still had never given up the gesture that expressed itself when he was deep in thought. Behind him, outside his enchanted window, the forest trees play in the autumn breeze.

When the Minister had given him the job of Master Auror, the highest position an Auror could achieve, Harry could have chosen any scene out his ministry window. The view of this forest had always brought him the most comfort. Sometimes he even thought he could see a little yellow light in the distance or a little trail of smoke wafting above the trees signaling that Hagrid was at home.

It had been thirty-three years since his days at Hogwarts. But it seemed only yesterday he was seeing that impressive castle rising for the first time from the bow of the small first years boat. Some nights when the nightmares returned, when he woke screaming and sweating, he was surprised not to see the heavy curtains that surrounded that old four poster bed that was his school home for six years.

On nights like those, when the night terrors returned, which was less now but still occasionally, he was glad that he had Ginny there, talking softly to him, soothing him with her gentle touch, pulling him back down beside her, cupping herself to him. Harry would feel her warmth, smells the soft scent of her hair and relax. Memories of Voldemort, silver death eater masks and the faces of dyng friends would all fade away as he held this amazing woman that was his wife through the darkest nights.

Ginny. Harry ran his hand through his graying hair. Ginny had been ill for over a year now. She was always putting a smile on her face. Always wanting to do more than the healers said she should explaining that she felt fine, that there was work to do. But they had been married too long for Harry not to notice that she was worsening. Every passing week she was thinner, weaker. Every day she took a little longer to rouse and she retired a little earlier.

Harry forced these thoughts to the back of his mind. Dwelling on the inevitable would only drive him mad.

With his back to the window he focused again on the parchment on his desk. They were a collection of recent reports of odd happenings from all over Great Britain over the past few months. Harry had added this morning's report from Gringotts to the top of the pile.

Various groups calling themselves Death Eaters had risen and fallen over the years. There always seemed to be another power-hungry witch or wizard and a few eager followers willing to ride their coat tails for gain. But this time seemed different. The attacks seemed more organized. The targets more challenging, the spoils increasing, and now with the attempt at Gringotts…. Harry shook his head. They were either very arrogant or very foolish. Either attitude could spell a lot of trouble. Only Harry and his top staff knew that the offenders never left a trace, never left a mark or anything out of place. The crimes were clean, so clean that it was a calling card of sorts. It was the thing that got the Auror's attention in the first place. There was a lot more to this than just a random rise in crime.

_Think! _He commanded himself_. There is something here, I know it. _

The words on the pages waltzed before him, mocking his lack of concentration.

Before Harry could work out any theories, a head popped into the fire on the other side of the room. A young woman with flaming red hair and intelligent green eyes looked around quickly, searching.

"Dad?" the woman urgently called.

"Lily?" Oh dear God. Harry jumped up ran to the fireplace "Is everything okay?"

"Dad! It's Mom. Come quickly! "Forgetting the parchment, forgetting everything, Harry grabbed a hand full of floo powder, stepped into the flames and yelled, "Home!"

* * *

_Authors Notes: This story was my first attempt at fanfiction but 25,000 words into the story I felt overwhelmed and the document has sat unpublished on my hard drive for over a year. After having some sucess posting other stores I've decided to come back to this story. Now replotted and updated, I'm ready to post this adventure for the first time. The first 8 chapters are written, and will only need polishing and I'm starting work on the final five chapters. It is my goal to post a new chapter aprox. every week. This may be somewhat delayed as I move into the unwritten chapters. Many thanks to my beta reader **Angelinthecrowd** that saves me from many embarassing mistakes. All mistakes are mine_.


	2. Ginny's Funeral

**The Master Auror**

**by MySoapBox**

**II Ginny's Funeral**

* * *

Hermione Weasley busied herself cleaning up. Her wand safely in an inner pocket of her dark suit, she preferred to do the tasks the muggle way. Something in the repetition, the mindlessness of washing dishes, drying, stacking away, brought her a measure of comfort. Although this was not her kitchen, she knew her way around without thinking. She had spent hundreds of nights here at the Potter home, even more frequently since her husband Ron's death six years ago. Holidays, birthdays, graduations, marriages, babies, funerals, the Weasleys and the Potters were together for them all. And today, the saddest of all days, it felt natural to step into the roll of woman-of-the-house and take care of the cleaning and the details that perhaps would have gone unnoticed if not for her.

At first glance Hermione did not look like a witch that had just turned fifty. Her hair was still wavy and brown, though she hardly ever wore it down anymore. Today it was twisted tightly into a bun atop her head. She didn't wear the traditional wizarding robes. She saved them only for official business at the Ministry or Wizengamot, much preferring muggle skirt or pant suits which she found less bulky and troublesome. And truth be known, she also wanted to make a statement by her choice of dress about muggle acceptance as she daily took her place among the most powerful wizards in the Ministry. The fitted, stylish, cut of the suit she wore today flattered her figure, which privately Hermione felt was a nice bonus. She had light smile wrinkles on her checks and forehead and deeper lines at the corners of her brown eyes giving her a kind look.

Hermione absently reached for the next item on the wash pile. How many times had she worked in this kitchen? She remembered her and Ginny's children all gathered around a birthday cake, Harry lighting the candles and Ron leading them in a rousing chorus. So many good times.

Not all memories here were pleasant ones however. It was at this same table Harry told her, after sitting her down with a hot cup of tea probably laced with a mild potion to calm her, that Ron and some others were missing and Harry was leaving that very night to find them. It was at this table that she and Ginny sat most of that night, drank coffee and fought back the darkness with each other's company. It was here that she had learned what had happened.

Ron had risen quickly in the Auror ranks. Not as quickly as Harry of course, but Ron's intimate knowledge fighting the Dark Arts had been an advantage. Soon he was leading his own team, chasing Death Eater groups all across Britain. He had made enemies too, enemies that in the end had caught up with him. Memories of her dead husband beat in Hermione's heart like an old familiar aching.

"I think it's dry now," a low voice came softly from in front of her.

"Huh?" Hermione looked up. A bearded, older, distinguished gentleman stood before her, hat in his hands.

"The platter. I think it's dry now, you've been wiping it for the past five minutes."

"Oh, Neville. Sorry, I was thinking about something….well, remembering something."

"I understand. It's hard not to remember being surrounded by so many old friends today." Looking down he fingered the brim of his hat. "Beautiful service by the way. I was really touched by the things you said."

Hermione nodded. "Thanks."

Placing his hat aside, Neville reached for some of the clean glasses and started to stack them on a shelf.

"I visited with your daughter Rose for awhile; she told me she had just finished another assignment. Still convinced to walk in her father's footsteps it appears?"

"Yes, there is little I could do to stop her. You know that she had her pick of professions when she finished at Hogwarts but being an Auror is what she has always wanted to do. Hugo would have been here too but he's been so busy at Gringotts since the attempted break-in he had to leave right after the service."

"You don't need to make excuses for him Hermione; I know he tries to avoid these family gatherings."

"I suppose he must find a way to fight his own demons," Hermione sighed. "Ron's death was the hardest on him I think. He was forced to grow up before he was ready."

Neville grunted. "Most of us were, weren't we?" It was not a question.

A silence fell between them as they worked side by side. Neville's lined forehead seemed to soften as he lost himself in stacking and sorting. And for a moment Hermione was reminded of the young round faced boy that once lived behind the older face of the bearded Deputy Headmaster. Yes, they all did have to grow up too soon.

Sensing her melancholy Neville reached out his hand and squeezed Hermione's arm lightly. "Ginny was a fine professor, and an even better friend."

"Yes, all that and more."

Neville sighed and looked back to the small task he had taken upon himself. "I won't easily replace her," he said, trying to sound matter-of-fact as he took some plates from the washboard. "She was the best transfiguration professor since Minerva I would say. She could turn a teapot into a tarantula in the wink of an eye. And who ever will I get that will be half the Quiddich referee? Gryffindor House will surely miss her." Neville paused and then turned back to Hermione meeting her eyes. "I'll miss her," he said more roughly. "We've lost so many Hermione; I thought that when Voldemort was finished we wouldn't lose any more."

Hermione put down the platter and stepped forward taking Neville in an embrace. "I know Neville. I know." They stood there in the kitchen for a few moments, just holding one another. Neville gave Hermione one last squeeze and then stepped back.

"Well, it looks like you're almost done here and Luna is waiting for me. Take care Hermione."

Hermione cleared her throat. "You too Neville. I trust I'll be seeing you soon."

Neville bowed deeply, "As always, Madam Secretary Weasley," and then looking up, winked at her.

Hermione gave him an appreciative smile. She could always count on Neville to lighten the mood. As Neville walked towards the door he turned back toward her. "You will keep an eye on Harry for us?"

"Of course."

"You're the best one for it you know. You know what he's going through more than anyone."

"Yes. Yes, I do."

"Well, Goodbye."

"Goodbye and Thank You."

Neville looked back at her one last time, turned the handle and he was gone. With the closing of the door the house seemed suddenly quiet and dark. The light from the windows was growing fainter. Hermione took a quick look around. She saw no one, only a few guests saying their goodbyes on the font lawn. She turned back to the kitchen, took out her wand and with a quick flick and a few quiet words the cleaning was done. Hermione stepped out into the living room. It was time to find Harry.

Hermione found him in the library, slumped on the settee in front of a small fire. It was early in the season and the flames made the air warm and thick. His black hair, shorter now than when he was young, was streaked with grey. His lightly wrinkled face and square shoulders gave him an air of wisdom and authority. He had shed his outer robe. The top of his white shirt was open, his tie loosened. The darkness around his eyes betrayed the stress of the day. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. His fingers thoughtlessly played with a folded white handkerchief, turning it over and over as he watched the flickering light.

Stepping into the room and feeling the heaviness of the air, Hermione too slipped off her suit jacket and draped it across the back of an arm chair.

"You've survived it, Harry," Hermione said half circling the room. "All the guests have gone home."

Harry grunted, eyes still dancing with the flames.

Hermione advanced on a pile of books she saw on the end table and started to sort them and then stack them one by one of the shelves. Half way though the pile she said, "I just said goodbye to Neville. It was so good to see him again. Since he became Deputy Headmaster it seems the only time I get to see him is across a conference table at the Ministry. I do love to have him there though. He always has something witty to say. I know it drives the Minister crazy but secretly I love it. The Minister could use a sense of humor now and again. Of course it always helps to have another supporter of elfish rights in the cabinet. Luna looked as lovely as ever."

After a few quiet moments she finished with the last book and finding the rest organized to her satisfaction Hermione moved on to a collection of newspapers on the floor by the fireplace, stacking them neatly one by one in a pile. "It was nice to have all our children together again today wasn't it, Harry? It felt like old times. I don't think we've seen them all in one place since Hugo and Lily's graduation."

Hermione finished organizing the newspapers in silence and, surveying the room, found some knickknack on the shelf out of alignment and went to straighten it. "I had a good visit with James and his wife. Harry Jr. is getting big. I hardly recognized him. I even got to see some of his new toddling skills." She smiled with the memory. "You're so lucky to finally be a grandfather. Both Rose and Hugo are years away from marriage I'm afraid, let alone children. Not that I'm overly anxious to be called grandmother mind you, I don't feel old enough for that yet, but it would be nice to have another baby around. Harry Jr. just keeps getting cuter and cuter, especially with that thick red hair coming in." Hermione stopped. Had she said the wrong thing? To her relief a smile played across Harry's lips.

"Red like his grandmother's." he said, almost too quietly to be heard.

"Yes, just like Ginny's," Hermione agreed.

Harry had been distant all day making only small talk when necessary. Everyone had to grieve their own way. She knew that. But Harry had a way of bottling feelings up and burying them deep. It would be better if she could get him to talk about it. Harry wasn't the only person hurting here. So she decided it was time to be direct. Sitting on the cushion next to Harry, she reached out and placed a comforting hand on his arm.

"It was a nice service today. The weather was perfect and the location lovely." Harry only nodded. "I'm glad you and Ginny chose the burial spot by your parents. I know it meant a lot to her. I miss her so much Harry. We were best friends for almost forty years. It feels like Ron dying all over again." Her voice cracked and she only whispered, "We have lost both the Weasleys in our lives and I don't know how I will survive it."

The settee creaked under Harry's weight as he sat up and put his arm around Hermione's shoulders. He proffered the handkerchief he held which Hermione took gratefully. She leaned into him, the first tears of the day beginning to roll down her cheeks. Harry tightened his arm around her and her tears came in earnest.

* * *

How long they sat there Harry didn't know. But the room was dark, shadows flickering from the light of the fire when Hermione began to stir. She pulled back from his arm and smoothed down her blouse and skirt. "Oh, I feel foolish. Ginny was your wife and I'm the one slobbering and making a fool of myself. I should be comforting you, not the other way around."

Harry ran his hand through his hair. "That's okay Hermione, you loved her too."

"I should be more put together than this though. We knew the end was coming for weeks. I thought I would handle it better. I thought I was prepared to let her go."

"Me too."

When Ginny had fallen ill with the symptoms, muscle weakness, speech problems, fatigue and then coordination failure they knew what it was immediately, a rare autoimmune disease that had taken Molly, Ginny's mother, when she was 64. But Ginny was only in her late 40's and it surprised everyone, even the best Healers at St. Mongoes, how quickly the disease progressed. They did their best to help her. She had seemed to get better for awhile but in the end the symptoms always came back and worse. Finally Ginny was done with tests and hospitals; she checked out of St Mongoes permanently and went back to teaching. She finished out the year and had a few wonderful months in the summer to spend with her children and her first grandchild Harry Jr. In the end she died in her own home sounded by her family. She died as she lived, on her own terms.

Harry was prepared for her death. Together they had put all her affairs in order, all her finances and investments. He helped Ginny hunt down old friends, forgive enemies, embrace her children and say everything she wanted to say. They picked out the grave site and she spelled out her wishes for the service. Everything was done. Harry was prepared. Or so he thought.

He wasn't prepared for the grief that had washed over him, drowning him in a deep wave ever since her death. Since he was sixteen he had wanted no one other than Ginny and now that she was gone he felt like half a man. He had never felt this alone, not even after Ron's death. When Ron died he had Ginny to comfort him and now for the first time in his adult life he would go to sleep in an empty bed. Harry felt as if the only thing keeping him alive was his will to breathe in and out, his children and grandchild and this woman who sat beside him. Hermione. His life long friend.

Hermione dabbed at her eyes one last time with the handkerchief he had given her. "It's getting late and I have an early meeting in the morning. Will you be alright here alone?"

"Yes" Harry responded.

"Are you sure?"

"Hermione, I'm not some child that is afraid of the dark. I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."

"It's not that. It's just that I know how hard it can be at first. Look, I can sleep here on the couch for a few nights. Just in case."

"No really, that won't be necessary. I'll be fine."

Hermione paused to look Harry in the face. She shifted her gaze between Harry's eyes as if trying to read the emotions that lay behind them. "Well, if you're sure." She stood and walked to retrieve her jacket. "You know how to reach me if you need anything. Anything at all."

Harry nodded and stood to show Hermione to the door. They walked together down the dark hallway, past the tall clock, past the family pictures, past the coat rack that still held Ginny's burgundy and gold sweater and on to the entryway.

They turned to face one another one last time. "Oh Harry," Hermione exclaimed quietly and she wrapped her arms around him again in an embrace. He put his arms around her in return and pulled her in tightly.

"You're going to be okay?" she asked.

How could he answer her? What did she expect him to say? He stepped back from her turned his eyes to the floor and answered evenly, "Yeah, I'll be okay."

"Well, then, I'll check on you tomorrow?'

"Yeah, sure."

"Okay, Harry. Goodnight." She opened the door to the cool night and stepped outside.

"Goodnight," Harry replied, holding the door open behind her, "and Hermione, thank you."

She took a few steps to the driveway where she knew she could Apperate. She turned back to him, for one last moment her brown eyes met his green ones and then "Crack" she was gone.

Harry closed the door behind her, turned and walked down the hall to the base of the stairway. He looked up the dark steps that led to his bedroom. _Their_ _bedroom_. He paused for a long minute with his hand on the banister but his feet stood unmoving. He could hear the low muffled tick of the clock, the snapping of the fire down at the end of the hall. Then shaking his head he walked to the hallway closet, pulled down a spare pillow and blanket, and headed for the living room and the comfortable couch he knew that was there.

* * *

_Many thanks to my beta **angelinthecrowd** for her work on this chapter._


	3. Rendezvous

**The Master Auror**

**by MySoapBox**

**III Rendezvous**

* * *

Four weeks after the funeral the weather was turning chill. Rose Weasley pulled her cloak more tightly about her as she walked into the wind, her wavy hair rebelliously escaping around the opening in her hood. The shops on either side of her were dark and the moon was just rising, casting long silver lined shadows at every turn. At the end of the lane she could see a tavern's yellow light pouring out onto the pavement and she could hear the distant sounds of laughter and music. But the tavern wasn't her destination tonight. After passing a few more shops she turned right onto a small alleyway.

The alleyway was cluttered with garbage cans, boxes and barrels and smelled faintly of sewage. The shadows held countless hiding places and Rose felt her pulse quicken as she proceeded, wand clutched in her hand at her side. She heard a crunching noise in the blackness in front of her, like the sound of footsteps in gravel. Quickly Rose raised her wand.

"Show yourself!" she commanded into the darkness.

The shadows before her lay totally still and she heard again the muffled thumping of music from the tavern nearby.

"Revelare," she whispered. Silver sparks swirled from her wand twisting around the boxes and barrels in front of her and then died in the dark night.

Rose relaxed a little and lowered her wand. Then without warning a dark figure sprung at her from behind. Rose twisted just in time. Palming her left hand on his chest, she redirected his momentum and sent him crashing pass her.

"Luminos!" Rose commanded, her wand pointed at the dark mass at her feet. But when the bright light faired from her wand tip it betrayed only an empty alleyway.

"Expelliarmous!" a voice whispered behind her and Rose's wand flew out of her hand. "You're a little distracted tonight, don't you think?" growled a male voice in her ear. Rose felt the tip of a wand press into her back. "This was all too easy."

Suddenly Rose spun around and kicked the wand out of her attacker's hand. In the same fluid motion Rose pulled a knife from her belt. The steel slashed through the night air, stopping at the throat of her attacker. "I'm not as distracted as you think," she spat.

The shadowy figure laughed, "Very good. Very good." He stepped back from her blade and took down his hood. The man was in his early twenties with shoulder length blond hair, a long pointed nose and eyes like the sea on a stormy day. A smile played at his lips. "Aren't you out a little late, halfblood? You know this isn't a very good part of town. Dangerous for a helpless young lady like yourself." Then turning to the side he muttered "Accio wands!" The wands flew to his opened hand. He handed Rose's to her.

She took her wand and replaced her knife in the sheath at her waist. "Oh, I think I can handle myself, Scorpious Malfoy," she hissed.

"Oh really? I've been following you for the last five minutes, and only now do you detect me, at the end of a deserted alleyway with me blocking the only exit. Some Auror you are."

"How do you know I didn't lure you down this alleyway so that I could have my way with you?" She let her question linger in the air a moment. Scorpious just smirked. "And anyway, I'm not alone; I have a handsome young protector looking out for me."

"Oh, yeah? And who would want to protect a blood traitor Weasley like you?" Scorpious taunted, twirling his wand in his hand.

"Can you think of no one?" Rose asked lowering her hood and letting her dark hair fall around her shoulders.

Scorpious stared at her, speechless for a moment. His eyes took in her features, her full lips, small nose and dark eyes. He opened his mouth to reply but before he could get out the words she took two quick steps toward him and captured his parted lips with hers.

Her kiss was hungry. He responded, wrapping his arms around her. She pressed herself against him. It was such a relief to be in his arms. To feel him returning her kiss. He ran his hands up her back and into her hair, cradling the back of her head in his hands to deepen their contact.

Moments later Rose pulled away a little breathless and pushed her arms inside his robes and around his waist. "Scorpious," she said, the cold edge to her voice replaced by warmth and longing, "I've missed you so much."

He sighed heavily into her ear and she felt him relax into her. "I've missed you too, Rose. It's been too long." He reached up and stroked her hair.

"I know it has. I'm sorry. It couldn't be helped."

Scorpious traced his thumb across her temple. "I know, I heard about your aunt. I'm sorry."

"Thank you, she was an amazing witch, but it isn't just that." Rose pulled back and looked at him in earnest. "I've been given a new assignment and I need your help," she said in a low voice. "Is there somewhere we can talk, privately?"

"Yes. I know of a place nearby where we can get out of the cold."

Rose released his waist and stepped back. She paused and placed her hand on Scorpious's cheek, her eyes eagerly taking in his features as if for the first time, still amazed at the depth of emotion aroused by this man.

He leaned into her palm and turned and kissed it before raising his hood.

Rose pulled on her hood as well and then reached out to grab Scorpious's hand. They knit their fingers and together headed out into the night.

***

The next evening at the Ministry of Magic, Harry sat in a meeting with the Auror Council to discuss more disturbing reports.

A small Asian woman was speaking. "As far as we can determine Gaspard Shingleton was killed some time over the weekend. His office was ransacked and his research stolen. Business partners reported that he was close to having a breakthrough on inventing a wandless caldron that stirred and heated in accordance with the owner's mental commands. His apprentice, one Lyra Hitchens, was questioned and released. Examination of the site itself held no clues for us to follow."

"Spymaster," Harry turned to a bald man with a thick black beard, "have you chosen someone to look into this? Investigate family, friends, see if they know more than what they are letting on."

"Yes, I've already put a man on the assignment."

"Good," Harry said. "There may be something more to this then it appears," Harry said, meeting eyes with all those sitting at the table.

"Chazton," he said turning to an elderly wizard with wispy white hair, "what do you have for us?"

"As you know we've been going over Magical Law Enforcement's records of the past month. Since the unsuccessful break-in at Gringotts there have been three other lesser financial institutions that have been successfully burglarized. Small amounts of gold were stolen at each one. These burglaries seem to be very similar to the Gringotts attempt."

"Gringotts may still be the big jewel they want for their crown," Morton said looking meaningfully at Harry.

"It's worth further inquiry at least," Harry replied. "Chazton, continue your investigation. Try to determine the commonalities to all the crimes. Maybe we can find a pattern. Morton, continue round-the-clock surveillance of Gringotts until further notice. I don't want to take any chances." Morton nodded.

Harry ended the meeting and the Aurors stood and bid one another good night.

Harry glanced at his watch. It was almost seven. Everyone at the Ministry would have left for the day. There was nothing more he could do. Taking a moment to decide, Harry walked to his office to get his outer robe. There was no point in delaying any longer; it was time to go home.

Harry was surprised when he apparated to his front porch to find the front door slightly ajar. Taking his wand from it's holder he pushed the door slowly open with his foot. The inviting smell of fresh baked bread and roasting meat wafted from the house, and the sound of something, sizzling onions perhaps, reached his ears. More curious now than frightened, Harry proceeded cautiously into his entryway and down the hall. Past the stairs on the left was the archway to the main living room and kitchen. Harry stopped before reaching the opening and pressed himself against the wall. Then slowly he his raised wand and leaned his head around the corner to get a view of his intruder.

He saw him in the kitchen, with his back to Harry, riffling through the kitchen cabinets. But what was he wearing? Was that one of Ginny's cooking aprons? Harry wrinkled his eyebrows. The intruder seemed to find what he was looking for and turned around with a large knife in his--no--_her_ hands. She looked up and Harry got a good look at the intruder's face.

"Hermione?" Harry gasped.

* * *

_Again many thanks to** Angelinthecrowd** for her beta read. All mistakes are mine._


	4. Between Friends

**The Master Auror**

**By MySoapBox**

**Chapter IV: Between Friends**

* * *

Hermione jumped at the sound of her name and the knife she held went sailing out of her hand into the air.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Harry cast with his already raised wand. The knife settled safely down onto the countertop.

"Harry!" Hermione breathed heavily, her hand moving to her chest. "You startled me!"

"And I just saved you from having your toes chopped off," he said smiling.

"That too," Hermione sighed in relief. "Dinner will be ready in a moment; just sit down and relax. How was your day?"

"Just fine, thank you. But Hermione, what are you doing here?"

"You haven't returned any of my owls lately, and I thought you could use a good meal." Hermione opened the oven door and looked inside. "Do you prefer your roast medium or well?

He ignored the question. "Hermione, how did you get in?" The pitch of Harry's voice rose slightly.

Hermione started tearing lettuce and placing it in a bowl. "Oh Harry, you know that your wards are set to allow me entrance."

"But the front door was locked."

"Oh that." Hermione blushed. "I did have to Alohamora the front door."

"You Alohamora'ed my front door? Hermione!"

"Well, I've been worried about you Harry. And when I didn't hear from you for awhile, I wanted to check on you, to see how you were doing. But, you see, when I got here and you weren't home, I didn't want to waste the trip. It was late and I figured that you'd probably be home soon and that you wouldn't have eaten. Well, what a perfect opportunity to cheer you up and show you that someone cared about you…" Hermione seemed to be loosing steam "…and you aren't terribly mad at me are you, Harry?"

Harry laughed, a deep true laugh and he walked over and quickly embraced his flustered friend. "Of course I'm not mad, Hermione. You just caught me by surprise, that's all."

"Go ahead and sit. Can I bring you anything? Tea perhaps?" she asked returning to her work.

"It's my house Hermione; I can get my own tea."

"Don't be silly, I'm in the kitchen anyway, aren't I?" Hermione waved her wand and the knife stated chopping some tomatoes.

Harry knew that there was no point in protesting and, he reasoned, Hermione was using the knife again and he didn't want to risk it. "Tea would be nice. Thanks."

"No problem. I did some straightening up in the living room too. I hope you don't mind," Hermione called over her shoulder as she filled the teapot.

Did he have a choice? "No, that's fine. Thank you."

"I noticed you've been sleeping on the couch," Hermione continued matter-of-factly. "Are you doing alright?"

Harry reddened. "Yeah, I'm okay. It's just…hard."

"Yes. I understand. When I lost Ron I couldn't sleep for…."

"Hermione?" Harry interrupted. "I don't mean to be rude, but it's been a long day and I'd rather not talk about it, if you don't mind."

Hermione looked up from what she was doing and considered Harry for a moment. She nodded. "Alright, we'll talk when you're ready."

Harry sighed in relief and sat down at the kitchen table.

Harry watched Hermione work. She was pretty good at juggling all the cooking, using a unique mixture of spells and doing things by hand. It reminded Harry of Molly, how she always used food to nurture everyone. Perhaps Hermione had learned a few things from their mutual mother-in-law. Harry hadn't thought of the Burrow for a long time. For a moment Harry allowed himself to go back to that place, to remember his first real home away from Hogwarts, the sights and smells and the table full of the people that were only family he ever really knew.

"What are you thinking about?" Hermione asked setting a steaming cup in front of him.

"Huh?" Harry looked up.

"What are you thinking about? You were distracted there for a moment."

"Oh, I was just thinking about the Burrow."

"The Burrow, mmm….a wonderful place."

Harry smiled. "Yes."

"Molly could get a little overbearing at times," Hermione sipped her tea. "But looking back, she was the one that made the Burrow what it was. She was a really good woman."

"Yes, and a wonderfully meddlesome Mother-in-law."

"She was that," Hermione chuckled and then her eyes looked serious. "You know, I always tried to create the same sense of warmth and love in my own home. In my own way of course; I wasn't at home as much as Molly was, but I really made an effort to make our time together count. I thought that was the measure of a good mother. "

Harry thought he heard a hint of regret behind his friend's words. "You were a good mother Hermione. Just look at how Rose and Hugo turned out; they are both fine people."

"Good people, yes, but Rose is out gallivanting around the countryside on some secret Auror mission and Hugo, Hugo doesn't come around much anymore, and he won't even talk to you." Hermione sighed. "You're his Godfather, Harry, and he can't stand to be in the same room with you."

"He's just angry, that's all. I was angry a lot too when I was his age. It will pass."

Hermione put down her tea cup. "I hope so. I just worry about him."

"If it makes you feel any better Hugo did talk to me just a few weeks ago when I worked the Gringotts break-in."

"That's something. Was he at least polite?"

"Well, he wasn't _not_ polite. He was all business though. He seams to be really good at what he does. Everyone there thinks very highly of him."

"That's nice to hear. But it couldn't hurt him to be a little friendlier to you. I know he misses his father, but I don't know why he hasn't looked to you more to fill that roll."

"You know the answer to that Hermione," Harry said.

"Yes, yes, I suppose I do." Hermione seemed to get lost in thought a moment. "Well," she said, gathering up their cups, "the roast should be just about done. Just let me go pull it out of the oven and we can eat."

***

That same evening Hugo apparated in the shadows of a city park across from a red brick block of flats. He entered the building, walked up two flights of stairs and knocked solidly on door 212.

"Who is it?" came a muffled voice from the other side of the door.

"Lily, don't tell me you forgot? It's Thursday night."

"Hugo? Just a minute."

Hugo heard rustling and footsteps then the door opened. Lily Potter stood in the doorway wearing brown pajama bottoms and a baggy shirt. "I don't want to go out tonight Hugo. Maybe next time."

"Oh come on Lil. You haven't been out with us for weeks."

"I know. I've just had a long day. I could really use some extra sleep."

"Can I come in for a few minutes? It would give me a chance to talk you into it."

Lily considered for a moment and then swung open the door. "Come in then."

Lily's flat wasn't much to look at, one bedroom, small living room, even smaller kitchen. But it was cozy in that first-apartment-sort-of-way with eclectic furniture and decorations.

"So cuz', how are you doing?" Hugo asked as he walked over and sat down on the battered sofa. Lily sat opposite him in a matching recliner.

"Good. Busy with work. That sort of thing."

"Uh-huh," Hugo went to prop his feet up on the coffee table but then noticed it was littered with tissues. He looked more closely at Lily's face. From the puffy eyes and flushed cheeks he was sure she had been crying.

"So…" Hugo shifted forward and leaned his elbows on his knees, "…how are you really?"

She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "It's that obvious is it?"

"I have seen you look better."

"Oh thanks!"

"Though believe me, you've looked worse," Hugo said offhandedly.

"Nice. Did you just come here to insult me?"

"No, no, not to insult you, to cheer you up."

"Cheer me up? By taking me out? Oh no, you mean get me into trouble. That's what your cheering always ends up doing."

Hugo widened his eyes in insincere innocence. "Me? Oh no Lily. Love, you're the one always leading us down the path of disrepute, following in Uncle George's footsteps the way you do."

"Oh yes, and whenever have I led you into mischief? You're hair has always had more of the Weasley red than mine."

Hugo leaned forward and spoke in a conspiratorial tone. "Was it or was it not your idea to sneak into greenhouse number two in our sixth year?"

Lily raised a finger in protest. "Oh, now don't bring that up again. That stink sap explosion was not my fault."

Hugo sat back and placed his hand on his chest. "Are you saying it was my fault? Because it certainly wasn't my idea to reducto the mimbulus mimbletonia."

Lily started to chuckle. "Well, it worked didn't it? Professor Longbottom didn't know what hit him. The look on his face was priceless."

"I don't know. It took me weeks to get the stuff out my hair. I have a pair of socks that still smells all sappy."

Lily was laughing now. "You still have socks from Hogwarts?"

"Well, yeah. Don't you?" Hugo started to laugh too and Lily had to reach forward to grab a new tissue to dab at her eyes.

"My Dad was so mad when Mom told him." Hugo stiffened slightly at the mention of Lily's father but if she noticed she didn't let on. She continued, "We've had some good times, haven't we?"

"The best," Hugo replied, "and they're not over yet. Come with me tonight. The whole gang is going to be there and Wood said he's invited a few other friends from Hogwarts. It'll be fun."

She paused a moment, and then a shy smile came over her face. "Oh, okay. If you promise we can leave early. Give me a minute to get ready?"

"Sure." Lily got up and walked towards the bedroom. "Oh, and Lil, I'll buy tonight. You can be my date."

"Isn't that incestuous?" Lily teased.

Hugo shrugged. "Just trying to cheer up my best mate, that's all."

***

Hugo and Lily spotted their group of friends as soon as they walked through the door. The pub was just a few kilometers from Diagon Alley, was full and there were lots of familiar faces from their Hogwarts days. Lily was immediately approached by a group of girlfriends. She cast an apologizing look at Hugo before she allowed herself to be pulled away. Hugo found an empty set at a table with some of the guys he had played Quiddich with.

"…and then McNiar slammed that Bulgarian chaser right into the upper stands. You could hear his bones crunch clear across the stadium. It was harsh. I thought maybe the Bulgarian wouldn't make it," exclaimed a very animated fellow wearing a blue and white jersey.

"Hey, Weasley," said the blond haired young man Hugo had sat next to in greeting.

"Wood." He shook his friend's hand and then smiled and shook hands all around.

"Glad you could make it. Jensen here was just telling us about the Norway Bulgaria match he saw last night. Go on then Jensen, what happened next."

"It was a sad sight, I tell ya. Bulgaria never saw it coming…"

As Jensen continued his play-by-play Hugo soaked in the atmosphere . It was good to be among old friends again, people that really knew and accepted him. There was nothing better than good friends and good talk about Quidditch. Hugo missed that since starting his career. He liked his job well enough, but he missed hanging out with the guys every day. After all, Goblins weren't very friendly company.

"It's a shame," said another friend, shaking his head. "I thought Bulgaria would make it to the cup this year."

"It's those new brooms the Bulgarians are flying." Hugo interjected. "Those new Starbolts are rubbish, It's the Sky Sweep 4000; that's the broom I'd love to fly."

"Would you like to take one for a spin?" The voice came from the far side of the table and Hugo turned to see who had spoken.

He was younger than Hugo, shorter, but solidly built. He looked familiar but Hugo couldn't quite place his face.

Wood seemed to notice Hugo's confusion. "Weasley, you remember Switch. He was a few years behind us at Hogwarts, played for Ravenclaw?"

Hugo's eyes widened. "I remember, you made captain right after we graduated, right? Mac, Mac Switch."

"That's me." He seemed pleased at the recognition. "And you're Weasley. You played chaser with Wood here and the rest of these idiot Gryffindors," Switch lifted his glass to them.

"That's right. I can see we made a lasting impression on you," Hugo said.

"Oh yeah. Ravenclaw wasn't so good when I started. But by my seventh year my team took the house cup right out from the nose of Gryffindor blokes like you."

There was general booing and hissing from the other guys at the table at this comment. "Blokes that I'll buy another round of drinks for, I mean." The boos turned to cheers and fresh drinks were poured around. The general conversation turned to speculation about who would make it into the Quiddich finals. After awhile Switch picked up his glass and moved around the table to sit next to Hugo.

"Weasley, you dad was Ron Weasley, best friend of Harry Potter, right?"

"That was him." Hugo wasn't sure where this was going. But he didn't like the mention of Harry's name.

"I remember now, you left half way in the season because your dad…."

Hugo furrowed his eyebrows. "Yeah, that's right."

"Sorry friend. Didn't mean to bring up a sore spot. Just putting the pieces together, that's all. I heard your dad was a great keeper in his day." There was a pause. "So how did he… ya know..."

"My dad?"

"If you don't want to talk about it that's fine." Hugo turned to Switch who was watching him with interest. Hugo found he didn't mind telling this new friend about it.

"No, it's okay. My dad was an Auror."

Switch looked surprised. "Is that why he got killed?"

"Yeah, he was sent out on an assignment to look for this dark wizard. It was a death trap really. He should have never been sent there. He went into it with only two other guys and none of them made it out."

"Sorry to hear that. It must have been tough."

"Yeah, it was." Against his will, the memory of that morning when he was pulled out of Astronomy class came to the forefront of his mind. Professor Longbottom had escorted him to the headmaster's office. His mom ran to him the moment she saw him in the open doorway and grabbed him into an embrace. She was crying and Hugo, in confusion, looked around the room for other faces. He saw Lily wiping her cheeks, Aunt Ginny crying openly and Uncle Harry with a haunted look in his eyes that Hugo had never seen before. He noticed that one face was missing and for a moment he desperately looked around. When Hugo saw that his dad was absent, he knew. He knew that what he always feared would happen had happened.

"So, did you want that ride?"

"Huh?" Hugo focused again on Switch, forcing the memories down into the depths of his mind.

"The ride. You know, on the Sky Sweep?"

"Are you serious? You really do have a Sky Sweep 4000?"

"I know someone who has connections." Switch looked up for a second, meeting Hugo's eyes.

Hugo's skepticism melted away. He liked Switch and wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to ride the best broom made.

"Absolutely. When?"

"We can take a go sometime next week if you like."

Just then Hugo felt a tap on his shoulder. It was Lily.

"Hugo, I'm beat. Are you ready to go?" Hugo looked up to his cousin and back to Switch.

"Yeah sure," he said, dropping a few coins on the table. "I'll see you next week then? Same place?" he said to Switch. Switch nodded. He turned and exchanged goodbyes with Wood, Jensen and his other friends and he and Lily headed for the door.

_

* * *

__Many thanks again to my beta reader **Angelinthecrowd**, who went the extra mile by doing some research on HP spells for me, to be sure I had the right one. _

_Many apologies for the late update.. The laptop my story was on died and it took me awhile to get the info off of it. But, hooray!, the story has now been recovered and I can start my regular posts again. _


	5. Playing at Pleasantries

**The Master Auror**

**By MySoapBox**

**Chapter V: Playing at Pleasantries**

* * *

Rose swallowed down her nervousness as she walked toward the mansion where she would meet Scorpious. After their rendezvous the previous week they had spoken late into the night of her new assignment. She was to investigate Lyra Hitchens, to see if she could find any more information about Gaspard Shingleton's death or the fate of his research.

Lyra had been ahead of them a few years at Hogwarts but Scorpious had still remembered the brilliant Slytherin girl. Rose wanted to question her parents and her friends, but fearing they would be distrustful of the ministry, she wanted a more subtle way to approach them.

Fortunately, Scorpious knew of a pure blood family who was hosting a harvest celebration the next weekend. It was the perfect opportunity to poke around and ask a few questions. And so they had made a plan, the eager young auror and her reluctant but smitten accomplice.

It would be dangerous for Scorpious if someone discovered his connection to Rose, an Auror, and of his deceitful introduction of her into his close knit society. He could lose everything, his family name, reputation and inheritance. He didn't care about any of that he said, but she knew better. Being a Malfoy was important to him; just as Rose's family was important to her. This paradox was their constant companion.

Their relationship seemed so fragile at times. Perhaps that is why every moment they spent together was delicious, like an expensive confection that would melt in the heat of your hand if you held it too tightly. Their affair could only be nibbled and then put away in a box and hidden under a pillow for safe keeping. It was wonderful and maddening at the same time. Even now, as she anticipated him waiting there, her heart beat a bit faster, the memory of his taste on her lips.

Rose took a deep breath and pushed those feelings deep down in her conscience. Remembering her occlumancy she cleared her mind and pushed forward innocent, pleasant thoughts that would be available to anyone who bothered looking.

Rose rounded the corner to see the entrance to the mansion. Scorpious was waiting there. He fidgeted with his dress robes, which was uncharacteristic of him, and as he greeted others festival goers his smile was a bit too large to be natural.

_He must compose himself or this will all be for nothing_, she thought to herself.

"Scorpious," she called out in cheerful greeting, waving her hand.

"Juliet," he said, calling her by the alias they had previously agreed upon. "You look lovely." His eyes looked up and down her dark dress, and lingered on her face and hair. "How are you this evening?"

"Well enough," she replied for the sake of anyone who could overhear. "But I am a bit light headed from the trip. Would you walk with me around the grounds for awhile so I can clear my head before we enter the party?"

"Of course," he replied, offering his arm.

They walked slowly, casually conversing about nothing until Rose was sure they were alone. Sitting on a small stone bench in a secluded corner of the garden, Rose quickly cast muffliato spells so that they would not be overheard

"Scorpious, you must calm yourself," Rose said putting her hand on his knee.

Scorpious reached up and touched her face. "You've charmed your hair."

"You didn't expect me to walk into the party looking like myself did you? And it isn't a charm, charms never seem to work on my hair, a curse I inherited from my mother. I used a flat iron." Scorpious looked puzzled. "A muggle invention using heat…oh never mind. The color is a charm though."

"Blond doesn't suit you, but your eyes, they are the most engaging shade of blue."

"Do they look familiar? I patterned them after yours."

Scorpious looked pleased. "And your face, you're features; they are just a little different. You're nose is longer, cheek bones higher and mouth…" he brushed his thumb across her lower lip. "However did you do it?"

"Some transfigurations I learned from my Aunt Ginny. It took me all of seventh year to perfect them."

"The result is amazing. I doubt anyone would recognize you."

"I know you have never seen me at my work, but let me assure you, I am very good at what I do." She bridged the difference between them and softly brushed her lips to his. "Trust me," she whispered, "all will be well."

Scorpious breathed in her scent, closed his eyes and nodded. He sat back, straightened his robes and let his face fall into a perfect mask of confidence, befitting a Malfoy.

"Better," Rose said, mirroring his posture and demeanor.

"Are you ready then?" Scorpious asked standing and offering his arm. "There are some people I think you would like to meet."

She took his arm and they walked together towards the large mansion.

***

Many noticed the new young woman on the Malfoy heir's arm. Her white blond hair was a stark contrast to her tight fitting, floor length, black dress and Scorpious looked as dashing as ever. More than one young lady was disappointed to see he was not alone.

They were engaging in small talk with other guests when Scorpious squeezed Rose's hand. He had spotted Mr. and Mrs. Hitchens across the hall. He leaned down and spoke in her ear, "Now remember, the Hitchens are a very old family, they…"

"Shh, Scorpious, I can handle it," Rose assured him as she glided across the room towards them.

Scorpious put his face into what he hoped was a perfectly pleasant expression as they approached. "Mr. and Mrs. Hitchens, how are you this evening?"

Mr. Hitchens, a rather large man with receding hair pumped Scorpious' hand. "Quite well, Master Malfoy, quite well. And who is this lovely young lady?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Hitchens, allow me to introduce Juliet Burke, from the states." Rose bowed her head slightly and offered her hand.

"I'm so pleased to meet you," Rose said in a broad New England accent.

"Juliet is here from New York on a purchasing trip for her father. He owns a chain of stores there," Scorpious offered.

"Really?" Mr. Hitchens replied, "are you in any way related to Caractarus Burke formerly of Borgin and Burkes in London?"

Rose looked pleased. "Distantly. It does seem that commerce is in our blood."

Mrs. Hitchens, a female copy of her husband, leaned forward in a more conspiring posture. "And tell me, Miss Burke, does your father deal in all sorts of antiquities as did Borgan and Burke?"

"We do pride ourselves on offering a broad assortment of items for sale. In fact that is why I am here, looking for new sources for inventory."

"And is that how you met Master Malfoy?" Mrs. Hitchens asked.

"Partially. Mr. Malfoy rescued me at the entrance to Diagon Alley. While my father informed me of how to tap the bricks for entrance, I'm afraid I've never been good at remembering such things." Rose blushed. "Was it not for Mr. Malfoy's assistance I'm afraid I may still be standing there even now." Rose squeezed Scorpious' arm, tipped her head and sent him a flirtatious smile.

Scorpious couldn't help but smile back. Oh, she was good. She held herself as if this sort of stuffy small talk was second nature to her, as if she was born into this world. Had he not known, he would never have suspected she was not exactly who she pretended to be.

They spent a few more minutes in pleasantries and those initial feelings of nervousness started to fade completely as he fell into his roll. Finally, Rose got to the heart of what she wanted to discuss.

"Mr. and Mrs. Hitchens," Rose continued, her voice light, "are you at all related to Lyra Hitchens, she was working on a wonderful new cauldron and one of my main purposes for this trip was to secure the first order of them but I have been unable to contact her."

"Why yes," Mrs Hitchens replied, "Lyra is our daughter."

"Really?" Roses face seemed to light up, and she reached out and touched the arm of the older woman. "Can you tell me how I may contact her? Her place of business seems to be closed. Father would be so disappointed if I didn't secure her as a client. I understand she is an absolute genius at what she does."

Mr. Hitchens smiled. "I'm sorry Miss Burke, we haven't heard from her in some time."

Mrs. Hitchens glanced around. "I was hoping to see her tonight."

"You know you young people, always on the go." Mr. Hitchens laughed lightly.

Rose smiled. "Ah, yes. Well, I'll keep my eyes open for her then."

Mr. Hitchens raised one meaty hand and indicated a group of young women talking animatedly across the room. "You could try talking to some of her friends. They might know."

Rose turned back to thank him when another man approached where they stood, a tall figure with a long nose and bright blue eyes. Scorpious stiffened as he saw him and then forced himself to relax. Rose smiled graciously at the gentleman.

"Antonin," the tall man said extending his hand to Mr. Hitchens, "do you mind if I steal my son away for a moment, I haven't seen him for some time and would like to do some catching up."

"Not at all, Draco." He nodded to Rose. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Burke. I hope this trip is a successful one for you."

"Oh, I'm sure it will be. It was nice to meet both of you." Rose graciously acknowledged Mrs. Hitchens and then allowed herself to be escorted away with Scorpious.

***

"Father," Scorpious said, "It's nice to see you again."

"I admit I'm surprised to see you here tonight, Scorpious, and with such a lovely young escort."

"Father, this is Juliet Burke. Juliet, this is Draco Malfoy, my father."

Rose's tried to mask the thumping in her chest with an incline of her head and a small curtsy. It wasn't unforeseeable that Scorpious' father would be here. She had even half expected it. But now that he stood before her, she couldn't quiet get her rebellious nerves back under control. "I'm so glad to finally meet you Mr. Malfoy. Your son has been most kind to me," she said not quite meeting his eyes.

"I'm glad to hear it Miss Burke; I would expect nothing less of him."

As Scorpious and his father exchanged pleasantries, Rose took a moment to compose herself. This was not only Draco Malfoy, the head of the most influential family of all the old pure-blood families; this was the Scorpious' father. That fact alone made him more potentially dangerous to her than anyone else in this room.

There was a long family history between him and her parents. Her father could always get the table laughing with his retelling of her mother's fight with Draco in her third year. The story, that in the beginning had been Hermione punching Draco in the face, had grown over the years with the telling. The last time Rose remembered hearing the story it had been her mother not only punching Draco out cold but also hexing him so that his nose started to expand like a balloon, then binding him and his friends in a leg lock while her father pulled down their pants. Rose suppressed a smile at the remembrance of her father gesturing wildly at the dinner table while her mother tried to maintain a disapproving look on her face.

Draco turned his attention to Rose and she immediately cleared her mind and checked her face for the appropriate congenial expression. "So tell me a little about yourself, Miss Burke. You are an American obviously. How did you meet my son?"

Rose retold the story of her father's store and being stuck at the entrance to Diagon Alley including again the blush and the flirtatious smile at Scorpious at the end.

Draco seemed interested in her business and spent some time telling her about other contacts that he could make for her while she was in England. Rose made sure to show extra interest in any information that could lead to acquiring items of a darker nature. And she filed this information in the back of her mind for future investigations.

As they talked she found that in some twisted way she wanted to impress this man; she wanted him to like her, to accept her. So she added details about her schooling and how her pure blood family immigrated to America so many generations ago. It was reckless she knew, giving out information that could be shown false with a little research. Scorpious must have seen the danger too because her broke into their conversation and asked Rose to dance. Rose accepted gratefully.

"Miss. Burke, if you find you need my assistance, don't hesitate to contact me. Scorpious will know how to find me. And Scorpious, your mother wanted me to tell you to come home for dinner more often. You're welcome to bring along Miss. Burke if you would like. I'm sure your mother would love to meet her."

"I'll try father, but I'm not sure whether Juliet's schedule would allow a visit before she has to return home." Juliet shook her head sadly in confirmation and then they bid Draco goodnight.

"So what did you think of him?" Scorpious asked once they started dancing. She sensed a bit of anxiety in his voice. "He was obviously impressed with you."

"He seems like a perfect gentleman. Like his son. Though I kind of thought his nose would be bigger." She giggled, whether out of nervousness or good humor she wasn't sure.

Scorpious looked at her with a questioning glance, though he kept his mouth in a perfect smile. And for a time they let themselves be swept away in the music and the moment. They had never been able to be together in public. It felt wonderful to forget for a moment who he was and who she was and just enjoy being together out in the open for all to see. But all too soon the song ended and Rose put her mind back to business.

"I sensed no deception from the Hitchens when we spoke with them," she said in a low voice. "I don't think they know anything. The next step is to locate those friends of Lyra's." She discreetly looked over the crowd and found her target.

"Oh Scorpious, I would very much like a drink," she said, louder than was necessary. "Would you escort me?" And they headed across the room.

* * *

_Thanks to my beta **Angelinthecrowd.**_


	6. Gone Mental

**The Master Auror**

**By MySoapBox**

**VI: Gone Mental**

**

* * *

**

It was snowing heavily outside of Harry's enchanted window. Some bored maintenance wizard had even placed a snowman in the scene complete with scarf and hat. Lily had dropped in this afternoon, as she often did in the months since her mother's death, for a cup of tea and a short visit. The fire crackled warmly and Harry had moved from behind his desk to sit next to her.

"Dad, I'm concerned about Hugo," she said after a pause in the conversation.

"Really, how so?" Harry asked.

"We used to get together with our old Gryffindor friends every Thursday, but he hasn't shown up in almost a month. When I talked to him about it he said he was busy working. But another friend of ours said she saw him out last week with some guys she didn't know."

"Maybe he's just made some new friends at work," Harry offered.

"Maybe, but there's more. When I _do_ see him he seems distant. It's like he isn't entirely engaged in what we're doing. Like he's never totally listening to what I'm saying." Lily closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again she was blinking away tears. "Do you think I've driven him away? I mean, I haven't been the best company lately. Mom's death has been really hard…"

Harry reached out and put his hand on her knee. "Don't blame yourself. Maybe Hugo is having a hard time with it too. The whole thing has probably reminded him of Uncle Ron. Maybe you two just need a good heart to heart talk."

Lily paused and shook her head, "Hugo's not very good at that."

Harry was about to respond that that was one thing he and Hugo had in common when a loud siren sounded out in the main office. Someone yelled Harry's name.

Harry jumped up and hurried out the door. "What's going on?" he barked at the wizard at the front desk.

"There's a security emergency on level two, interrogation rooms!" the man said.

"Alert the in-house team. Tell them I'll meet them there." Harry turned to Lily. "Wait here," he commanded. And then shaking his head he amended, "Better yet, Lil, just go home. I'll owl you." He stayed only long enough to see Lily nod her agreement and then he hurried out the door.

When Harry burst through the stairway doors onto level two he could see the hallway was in chaos. Ministry employees were fleeing towards the lifts and a security team was taking up positions around one of the doors, wands drawn.

"What's the situation?" Harry asked the first security wizard he saw.

"Someone has taken Secretary Weasley hostage, sir. He's holding her in the room and threatening to kill her if we try to go in there. We have one man down."

Harry's breath caught. Hermione! Drawing his wand, he rushed down the hallway. Security men moved aside when he approached so that he could see through the glass into the room. There she was. A man held her as a shield against him, tightly wrapping his right arm around her; his left arm held a wand at her neck. Hermione trembled. Blood dripped from a cut below her left eye. The table and chairs were tossed askew and a crumpled figure lay at Hermione's feet.

Harry looked closely at the man holding Hermione. He didn't look like a criminal. He just looked like an ordinary fellow you would see on the street - except there was a panicked look in his eye, like an animal in a trap.

"He hasn't made any demands yet," said a man who had come to stand beside Harry. "We have extendable ears in place; we're ready to try talking to him."

Harry turned to see Captain McLaggen, of Magical Law Enforcement. Not his favorite person. Harry always thought him too cocky. "Who is he?" Harry asked.

"He's some bank employee we brought in for questioning concerning the Phoenix Bank break-in a few days ago. He doesn't even have a criminal record."

Harry raised his eyebrows at that. "Then why is he doing this?"

"That, we don't know," McLaggen answered.

"If your men are ready for us to make contact, I'll do it." Harry wanted to get control of this situation and fast.

Making eye contact with the security men up and down the hallway first to be sure they were ready, Harry rapped lightly on the door. The abductor visibly flinched at the sound. "We want to talk," Harry announced loudly.

Hermione's eyes widened when she heard Harry's voice and look of relief crossed her face. The abductor however only tightened his grip around her.

"I want just want out of here," the assailant yelled back through the door. "I don't want this! I just want to go home."

"Okay, you can get out of here. Just let her go and we can talk."

"I don't want to talk. And I'm no fool." He jabbed the tip of his wand deeper into Hermione's neck. She involuntarily gasped. "Clear your men from every hall between here and the Apparition point. This lady and I are going for a walk."

"No deal!" Harry shouted back to the door. "Release her first. She doesn't have anything to do with this. Don't be stupid!"

The man didn't answer immediately but seemed to consider for a moment. Suddenly he started to shudder and Hermione squinted her eyes as if in pain.

"It's okay. Just calm down," Harry said. He had to get her out of there now.

"We're coming out," the man yelled clearly in a panic. "If anyone tries to stop us, she dies."

"Stand at ease! Stand at ease!" Harry yelled at the security team lining the hallway. "Let them pass. I don't want to see so much as a flinch!" The men obeyed immediately, standing up against the walls with alert eyes. Captain McLaggen too, stood against the wall with his wand tightly in his fist.

Harry saw the abductor point his wand at the door and Harry instinctively put up a defensive shield. The door exploded and shattered in a bright flash of light filling the hallway with dust and smoke.

Suddenly Harry's head filled with pain. Countless images burst across his mind, fast and intense. Where was this coming from? He squinted his eyes and pulled his hands up to his temples. He coughed from the smoke. The images that flashed across his mind were full of such intensity that Harry thought his brain would burst, bright lights and colors, dark shapes, and loud sounds. He fell to the floor clutching his head, his vision blinded, his body felt paralyzed. He struggled to remember the steps of Occlumency. Damn! He was never very good at this.

He was drowning in his thoughts as if flailing in fast water. He had to block them out. _Clear your mind. Relax. Let go of all emotions. Clear your mind. Relax. _Harry repeated the steps he had learned back in Snape's dungeon.

The images seemed to get fainter, the emotions less powerful as he built his mental shield. His rational thought process began to refocus. His vision began to return and he shook his head to clear it. As the room came back into view Harry realized for the first time that he was lying on the floor. He saw the others collapsed all around him. Hermione! He jumped up. He franticly looked up and down just in time to see the abductor drag Hermione around the corner at the end of the hallway and out of sight.

Harry ran after them. As he rounded the corner, he saw the abductor with Hermione in a tight grip making their way awkwardly towards the lifts. Harry stayed back, looking for a clear shot at disarming the man. Suddenly Harry's head threatened to burst open as the images once again invaded his mind. He fought them and pushed them out. That extra Occlumency course at the Auror's academy was paying off.

Up ahead, he saw Hermione shudder wildly and collapse to the floor. Panic welled up in Harry's chest and a hundred different spells he could unleash on this man paraded through his cluttered mind. He swatted the thoughts away and focused his thoughts and his vision on his one goal.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry yelled, pointing his wand at the newly exposed man. In a bright white flash of light the abductor flew, crashing hard into the wall. At impact his wand clattered to the ground. "Petrificus Totalus!" Harry shouted and the man fell stiffly to the hallway floor, cracking his head hard on the tile. Harry's mind immediately cleared. He rushed towards Hermione.

"Are you hurt?" He knelt next to his friend and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Hermione!"

"No, no," Hermione said wearily, one hand still pressed against her right temple, "I'm fine."

"Thank heavens," Harry breathed. "Can you stand?"

"Harry, I told you, I'm fine." Hermione went to get up and Harry helped her to her feet. As soon as she stood Harry pulled her into a crushing embrace. Strong emotions of protectiveness coursed through him. He could have lost her! The thought caused him to tremble.

Hermione seemed to sense his intensity. "Harry? Harry? What is it?" Hermione pushed back from him to try to meet his eyes. He turned his face away from her and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"So was it that mind thing or did he hit you with a hex or something?" He hoped that his question sounded casual. He balled his hands into fists to control his shaking.

"Neither," she answered, feeling the swollen spot under her eye with her fingertips and wiping the small trickle of blood. "I wanted to give you a clear shot, so I pretended to faint."

"Pretended to… Hermione!" Harry's voice started to rise. "I thought…You could have been killed! Of all the foolish…Don't ever do anything like that again!"

"Well that's a bit of an overreaction. You should be thanking me, not yelling at me. I…"

The Magical Law Enforcement team rounded the corner and Hermione immediately let her next sentence drop.

Captain McLaggen approached Hermione and put a hand on her arm. "Hermione! Are you alright?"

"Fine, Captain, just a little headache," Hermione answered.

"Yes, I can see why. I've never felt anything like it. It knocked out my whole team. Is that him then?" he gestured to the abductor's body still lying totally stiff on the tile floor.

Harry straightened his posture. "Yes, that's him," he said, his voice all business. "How is your downed man? Is he alive?"

"Yes. Just stunned."

"I'm so glad to hear that," Hermione said, brushing the dust off her skirt and straightening her jacket. "Captain, Mr. Potter and I have something to discuss, you can take care of this, can't you?" she asked, waving to the abductor at her feet with one hand and grabbing Harry's arm with the other.

"Yes, of course," he said to Hermione and then turning to Harry he added, "Glad it all worked out okay."

"Yes," Harry nodded gruffly and then silently added, _with no thanks to you,_ and allowed himself to be pulled away.

***

Hermione pulled Harry towards a conference room she knew that was on this level. That had been a stressful situation, true. But they had faced worse hadn't they? Next to battling death eaters in the hallway of Hogwarts, one panicked bank employee was nothing. He didn't even want to hurt her, not really, he was just reacting. Some carnal fight or flight mechanism that had kicked in as a result of whatever was happening in his brain. And Harry. Wasn't Harry the most powerful wizard alive? He could easily handle ten wizards. Then why was Harry acting so angry?

Her head was still spinning. What she needed now was a private place to work it all out. She reached her destination, let go of Harry's arm and opened the door. He followed her inside without comment. She turned around and pointed her wand at the door. The click of the locking mechanism echoed in the empty room.

"Harry, what's going on?" Hermione demanded.

"What do you mean? You were just kidnapped," Harry answered defensively.

"He wasn't going to hurt me. I had it under control," Hermione said.

"That's not what it looked like on my end," Harry retorted.

They looked at each other, a mixture of anger and worry on Harry's face. Hermione was sure her own expression mirrored his. She took a deep breath and decided to put her emotions in check and look at the situation logically. "About an hour ago," she began, "I got an owl from Magical Law Enforcement. They were questioning the vice president of the Phoenix Bank."

"Is that who that guy was? A bank vice president?"

Hermione nodded. "He had agreed to Legilimens to see if there was any helpful information about the burglary that he had forgotten. And seeing as their regular Legilimens wasn't in today they asked if I would come down for a few minutes and help them out."

"Why you? Why not someone else?" Harry asked.

"What? Are you interrogating me now?" Hermione's voice rose and she straightened her stance. When Harry didn't respond but looked at her intently she sighed in frustration. "I used to do that sort of thing all the time when I was a prosecutor to the Wizengamot. And when Cormac owled me and asked me if I could help out…"

"Cormac, is it now?" Harry interrupted.

"Oh, Please! I don't know why are you are upset about this. It isn't unusual for me to step in and help when I can. Don't forget I was head of Magical Law Enforcement for almost five years."

"I just don't like you putting yourself in harm's way, that's all," Harry said defensively. "You are in the Minister's Cabinet and that makes you _my_ responsibility. You shouldn't take unnecessary risks!"

"It wasn't like I thought it would be a dangerous. Had I known, I would have had them call in a whole Auror team instead. I'm sure you have many Aurors out in the field who would love to be called in for such an important assignment."

"Hermione, you're not being fair."

"Fair? Who's not being fair? Harry, I went down to help for a few minutes on a routine questioning. That's all. I have no idea why that man went berserk like that. And I don't appreciate being treated like I'm the one at fault here. You do know it was me who was being dragged down that hallway at wand point just now and not the other way around, don't you?"

Hermione realized that in her irritation she had stepped aggressively close to Harry. It wasn't like her to lose track of her body language. It has been a long day. Suddenly Hermione felt very tired. Perhaps it was the adrenalin let down; perhaps the events of the day had finally caught up to her. She reached out and grabbed the edge of the conference table to steady herself.

Harry seemed to sense her needs and pulled up a chair for her. "Here. Sit," he said in gentler tones. "Let me take care of that bruise." He raised his wand and the black circle under her eye began to vanish.

Hermione reached up her fingers and tested the healed skin. "Thanks."

Harry pulled up a chair for himself and conjured up two cups of tea. After they had both had time to find solace in the warm beverage Harry ventured to ask, "So what happened at the interview?"

"The man seemed nice, totally cooperative. I was going to do a basic Legilimens first to isolate the memories we needed and then I was going to pull a memory strand for our records. I began the procedure, it started routine enough and then I sensed a dark area in his memories. I probed a bit deeper. It was like hitting a steel wall, way beyond a normal mental shield." Hermione wondered at the memory of it. "Harry, I've only seen something like it one other time, and that was my professor at law school, who was a Master Occlumens."

"So what did you do?" Harry asked.

"I was curious of course; I doubted that a bank vice president would have that ability, so I tried working around the barrier."

"And that's when the mental explosion happened?"

"Yes, it was like I triggered a booby-trap. The steel door sprung open and I was hit with the memories that flooded out. The power of it was incredible. It was at that same moment that the vice-president jumped out of his chair and struck me, more out of panic than anything else I think. The officer must have stepped in at that point to try to get control of the situation. That's when he got stunned."

"So why did the vice-president turn violent? And why did he take you hostage?"

"I'm not sure. He seemed more frightened than anything else," Hermione answered.

"Maybe he couldn't think straight with all those mental images blaring," Harry said.

Hermione had an idea. "Harry, do you still have Dumbledore's pensive?" Harry nodded. "Maybe we could slow down those images and take a really good look at them. That might give us some more information."

"We?" Harry asked raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, we. It's my mess in a way, and I'd like to see it through. And we need to question that bank vice-president, when he comes to. That may be awhile after you let him smash his head into the tile like that. They're probably already taking him to St. Mongos." She started composing the to-do list in her mind.

"Hermione, I don't think it is such a good idea for you to get mixed up in something like this."

"Something like what Harry? We don't even know what _this_ is. And until we do, I'm in. Now, I've got some research to do." Hermione stood as if to signal the end of the conversation. Harry stood also, unlocked the door and opened it for her. Before leaving she turned and faced Harry once more. "We'll have to get together to take a look at those memories, maybe sometimes this weekend." And then as an afterthought she added, "And Harry, thank you for the tea."

"You're welcome."

"And for saving my life," she added in a softer voice.

"You're welcome," he said.

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_Again, thanks go to **Angelinthecrowd** for her beta work on this chapter. _


	7. Missing Something

**The Master Auror**

**By MySoapBox**

**Chapter VII Missing something**

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Rose was awakened by a loud noise. She opened her eyes, squinted in the morning light, and then immediately closed them again. Her head pounded and she had a thick pasty feeling in her mouth. She cracked open her eyes again – more slowly this time. Why was the room so bright? What time was it? She looked over at the clock on her wall and groaned. Make that _afternoon_ light: she had overslept. _Tap, Tap, Tap. _She sat up in bed, and tried to focus on the source of the noise in spite of her spinning head. She saw a small brown owl waiting outside her apartment window; a parchment was dangling from its leg. _Tap. Tap. Tap_.

"Yeah, Yeah," Rose mumbled as pushed herself out of bed and padded across the wooden floor towards the window. Freezing winter air rushed in with the owl; she closed the window as quickly as she could. The small bird thudded unceremoniously on her nightstand, spreading cold droplets of water everywhere.

"Thanks," she said to the owl as she took the parchment from its leg. She went back to the window and opened it to free the owl, but instead of flying toward the window, the owl turned its head and considered her with its large yellow eyes. Rose sighed and shut the window again. "Yeah, I don't blame you."

Rose crossed over to the kitchen area of her one room apartment. "You want something?" she asked the bird. "How about some pizza?" She threw a cold slice on a plate and set it down on the floor by the radiator. "Sorry it's not something you'd like better, but that's all I got." The owl hopped down from his perch on the nightstand to the food offered and began to pick at it.

Satisfied that the bird was entertained and wouldn't cause any trouble, Rose open the parchment she held in her hand. The parchment was blank, but after a wave of her wand the words came into focus. It was from the Spymaster. She had missed her morning briefing, and he didn't sound too happy.

"Damn," she muttered, absentmindedly rubbing the back of her neck with her other hand. How had she lost track of the time so badly? What had happened last night anyway? She squinted her eyes as she tried to remember. Everything was hazy; she needed a shower; she had to put her thoughts together before reporting to work anyway. As she headed for the bathroom she shook her head: it wasn't going to be a good day.

Since meeting Lyra's friends at the Harvest Ball, she had been slowly building a relationship with them. She would owl this one or that one every few weeks and tell them she – her false identity Juliet - was in town. She had met quite a few of Lyra's circle of friends this way and was trying to build a foundation of trust with them.

But so far it hadn't led to much. She had learned some interesting things about Lyra. For example, she was well liked among her Slytherin classmates from Hogwarts. She was apprenticed to Gaspard Shingleton, not because she was particularly good at potions or with a cauldron, but for her memory and mental charms skills which were somewhat legendary. Lyra also liked a good game of wizard's chess; though some said she cheated, none of them could prove it.

Rose knew that this part of her investigation wasn't getting very far. She should shut it down and try to look for another avenue of information, maybe try Lyra's parents again. But she didn't. At honest moments, Rose admitted to herself that she enjoyed her time hanging out with Lyra's friends. She had fun with them and they seemed to genuinely like her.

Since she had joined the Auror's she hadn't had much time for friends. Who was she kidding? She had never had much time for friends. At school she was always studying, trying to make top marks - which she did. She knew she wanted to be an Auror from her second or third year, and she knew she had to have a load of NEWTS to reach her goal. All that studying didn't leave much time for hanging out with friends. Beyond her cousin Albus, who had been her best friend all through school, she never had much of a social life at all.

Of course, that all changed when she started seeing Scorpious - which was the second reason Rose was still working this angle of her investigation. It was so unexpected and ironic, really, that the one man she had ever dated seriously was also the one man that she couldn't be seen with in public, and she couldn't tell anyone about. But as Juliet, all that had changed. She was seeing him regularly; they were going out; it was almost as if they had a normal relationship. Almost.

Rose glanced at herself in the mirror but then turned away. Her relationship with Scorious was troublesome and she wasn't ready to face the questions that were beginning to creep into her consciousness. She returned to her room to dress. After a cup of coffee and a piece of toast, Rose was feeling decidedly better. Under the hot spray she had been able to piece together some of what had happened last night.

She thought about how Scorpious had gone with her last night to a pub hoping to meet up with Lyra's old Hogwarts friends. Rose narrowed her eyes again. She remembered going to the pub, finding Lyra's friends and some other former Slytherins there.

Rose thought hard, trying to piece together the few scraps of memories. Did she drink? No, she never drank, especially when she was on assignment. Why couldn't she remember? Rose widened her eyes as an idea came to her. She stood and dumped the last of her coffee into the sink.

She slipped on her cloak as she walked over to the window and opened it. "Out." she said to the owl, nudging it with her foot. It hooted at her in complaint and took flight. Rose looked down at the fresh, gooey, white spot on her wooden floor. "Oh, great!" she yelled out the window after the owl. "Some kind of thanks I get," she mumbled slamming the pane. Yes, it wasn't going to be a great day.

Once at Auror Headquarters she went directly to the Spymaster's office. His door was already opened, but she knocked anyway just to make her presence known.

"Ah, Rose," the bearded man said looking up from his desk, "nice of you to join those of us that work for a living."

Rose walked in and stood in front of him. "Sorry about missing the meeting; I overslept." She rubbed her hands on her temples. "In fact I think I've been drugged. I can't remember half of what happened last night."

"Are you sure you're not just hung over?" he asked, his face turned down to the parchments on his desk.

"Spymaster, you know me better than that. I would never do anything to jeopardize my assignment."

He grunted and put down the quill he was holding. "Let's see if there are traces of anything in your system. You can tell me what happened on the way."

The Auror's Potionmaster had a laboratory just down the hall. The small woman with dark rimmed glasses and bright yellow hair stood on a stool sorting through ingredients. She acted irritated when the Spymaster made his request, but considering the earnest way the she attacked the new assignment, Rose wondered if she didn't actually relish the task.

The potion seemed easy enough. A bottle of this blue powder, a few drops of that amber liquid, something that looked suspiciously like a toe nail, and a few drops of Rose's blood. The Potionmaster turned the fire on under the cauldron and stirred, once clockwise, twice counter clockwise. After a few moments the potion turned a bubbly dark brown.

"See?" the Potionmaster said.

"See what?" Rose asked.

The Potionmaster looked to the Spymaster. He shifted uncomfortably and stroked his beard. "Well, um…"

The Potionmaster stomped her foot. "Doesn't anyone around her understand even the most basic potion making? Some dark wizard chasers you are. I swear if it weren't for me the art of potion making would be totally lost to the lot of you."

"Geniva, was there some sort of potion in her blood or not?" the spymaster asked impatiently.

"Unless way too much coffee counts – no - nothing."

The spymaster thanked her and they walked back to his office.

"How can that be?" Rose asked. "I can't remember half of what happened to me last night."

"Rose, there are a lot more ways to mess with someone's memory than just potions."

Rose sat heavily in the chair opposite the Spymaster's desk. "Like a memory charm or something? You know, I am a fair Occlumens."

"I don't know what to tell you Rose, looks like you have a mystery on your hands. Why don't you try talking to some of the people you were with last night, maybe they can fill in some of the blanks for you?"

Yes, that is what she would do and she would start with Scorpious. She stood to leave.

"And Rose, get some information on our Miss Hitchens. Remember? The trail's getting cold." Rose nodded and headed out the door.

***

Hugo was exhausted. He had been busier at work than ever before. Since the attempted break-in his skills as vault charmer had been in high demand. Hugo had designed a totally new protection system. He had been thinking about it ever since he had been hired at Gringotts and the heightened awareness of their potential vulnerability had been just the right thing to get the Directing Goblins to accept his innovations. He had a whole team of charmers assigned to him to make the changes. Each level-one vault, all 2,903 of them, needed to be individually refitted with the improved protections. All on his team were talented goblins but a few of the charms that he had invented were so complicated that only Hugo himself seemed to be able to master them. So while his team worked around the clock, Hugo had to visit each and every vault to add the finishing touches. The highest security areas were deep down in the catacombs. It was dark and often damp. The work was time consuming and tedious.

Hugo broke up the monotony by thinking of Switch and the new friends he had introduced him to. He was surprised how much he has enjoyed hanging out with them. For the first time in his life he wasn't living under the shadow of the Weasley family name. They didn't like him because his dad was an Auror or because his Mom was high up in the Ministry. They didn't pester him for stories about his Godfather, the famous Harry Potter. They didn't even care that much that he had played Quidditch on the house team.

Just a few months ago he would never have imagined that he would fit in so well with this group of former Ravenclaws. But they were all grown up now weren't they? And it was good to be putting past prejudices behind him. Hugo, himself, often wondered why he wasn't put in Ravenclaw; he wondered if it was because Gryffindor had been so drilled into his young mind that that is all the sorting hat could see. Certainly he was smart enough, as his present employment proved.

Now, as he worked on vault number 374, Hugo couldn't help but think about last night. He needed to talk to his sister Rose.

He had seen her at Dirty Dicks, a darkly lit pub in Bishopsgate. She was in disguise: stringy blond hair, blue eyes, bigger nose, but it was Rose all the same; he had watched her practicing those transformations a hundred times. He was surprised to show up at the pub and find her sitting there with some of his new friends and Scorpious Malfoy, of all people. Switch sat at the next table over.

Hugo had approached the table and a former Slytherin girl introduced his sister to him as 'Juliet Burke'. So this was Juliet, the charming American he had heard about from some of the others. She had connections, Switch had told him, business connections in America that might come in very handy. Hugo was shocked, of course, when she was introduced to him; he stammered and wasn't quite sure what to say. She took his hand and he noticed only a flutter of her eyelid that suggested that she knew him at all. After he was settled at a table nearby, Switch commented on how hot Juliet looked. She was his sister and normally Hugo would have rather gagged than admit that she was attractive, but Hugo was glad for this excuse for his uncomfortable behavior when he took her hand.

Switch was talking to Hugo intently over ales about Switch's work - something about money management and investing. Hugo usually liked his conversations with his friend, but tonight Hugo was distracted. He couldn't keep his eyes off of Rose. There was his sister, sitting just a table away holding hands and flirting with Scorpios Malfoy and sharing drinks with a bunch other Slytherins. Obviously she was on a case, but what would she want with her new friends and what was she doing with _him_?

"Hugo? Hey, mate!" Switch was waving a hand in front of Hugo's eyes.

"Uh, sorry, what were you saying?" Hugo said.

Switch turned and followed the path Hugo's eyes had taken. "She is pretty, Hugo, but it looks like she's taken."

"Yeah, looks that way," Hugo said, a grim timber to his voice. He waved his hand as if shoeing away a fly. "Go on with what you were saying about the goblin markets."

"It wasn't that important anyway." Switch picked up the pitcher and poured himself another drink. Hugo's eyes wandered again in Rose's direction where she was now kissing Scorpious. He felt himself get a little hot behind his ears.

"Hey, you seem a little distracted. What's going on?" Switch asked.

Hugo immediately returned his eyes to Switch. "Oh nothing. Really."

Switch took a long hard look at Hugo. It was almost like he was trying to read Hugo's thoughts. Hugo shook the idea away. He felt a headache coming on.

Switch's face changed expressions just for a moment, and then he smiled. "Just relax, Hugo. Let's just kick back and have fun tonight. Everything is going to be okay."

Hugo felt immediately at ease and his head started to clear. Switch was such a good friend. Hugo was glad they had started hanging out.

A moment latter Switch went and talked to one of the Slytherin girls at another table. It gave Hugo another chance to sneak a look over at Rose. She met his eyes and smiled in a cordial way. He raised his eyebrows in question and ever so slightly nodded his head toward Scorpius. She looked away as if she didn't see him. If he hadn't been her brother he would have missed it, but he knew her too well. He was almost positive that he had seen her blush. There was definitely something more going on here than just another case.

It was then that Rose and Scorpius stood, said their goodbyes to the people at their table, and without a second look at Hugo, left the pub.

He was still watching the door where they left, when Switch tapped Hugo on the shoulder. "I've got to go; I've got an early day tomorrow," Switch said. He grabbed his jacket off the back of his empty chair. "Remember, you promised to meet up with us next Wednesday night."

"I won't forget." Hugo replied.

Switch hurried towards the front door and was gone.

The memory finished playing out in Hugo's mind but the questions remained. As soon as his shift at the bank was over, he determined, he would seek out his sister and ask her what the hell was going on.

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_Angleinthecrowd beta'ed this chapter. I appreciate her ongoing support of this project._


	8. Memories

**The Master Auror**

**by MySoapBox  
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**Chapter VIII Memories**

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Sitting in the drawing room of his childhood home brought back so many memories; Scorpious could almost hear his Grandmother Narcissa's voice in his mind: "Long, long ago, there was an orphan boy named Tom Riddle…" That's how she always began the story that had lulled Scorpious to sleep night after night when he was a small child. When his parents were out, which was often, Narcissa would spin the story of how a power hungry orphan boy nearly destroyed the Malfoy family. The moral was not lost on his young mind in spite of the fact that his father had always warned him not to listen to the tails of the crazy old woman.

At his father's knee he learned about his family's heritage, the pure blood house of Malfoy, the great house of Black and all the ancestors that made their mark on wizarding society. From his mother he learned the social arts of public behaviors, masking his emotions, working others to his advantage, and appreciation for the finer things. But it was those late night teachings of his grandmother's, about evil and redemption, about family and sacrifice, which sunk most deeply into his boy heart.

Scorpius sipped a cup of dark coffee his mother had brought him. He had arrived early for dinner, and his dad had not yet returned from business, so he waited alone while his mother supervised the last of the dinner preparations. As he stood to stretch his legs, some of the photo in the room caught his eye. He studied them, for perhaps the first time in his life. As a child you don't really notice such things.

His eyes moved around the room taking it all in; there were a few faces that were missing. Where were the pictures of his grandfather Lucius, who had died in prison before Scorpious was born, or his grandmother Narcissa who helped raise him when he was a boy? Scorpious grunted. Though his father never came out and said it, the truth of one lesson was never lost on Scorpious - some family pots were left best unstirred.

He approached the fireplace mantel where sat some pictures from his childhood. There was one of him getting on the Hogwarts Express for the first time. He picked up the photo and looked down at the happy waving boy who, Scorpious knew, was outwardly arrogant and inwardly confused. It was that year that he learned that his family name gave him a house and a status of some prestige among his peers. It wasn't until several years later into his education that Scorpious found, to his surprise, that there was more to him than just his family name; he was smart, some said gifted. Not that his father would agree. Scorpious had been good at school, yes, but he was never the best. That title always went to a bossy know-it-all Gryffindor named Rose Weasley, a fact his father had constantly reminded him of.

The face of the brown haired Auror danced though his mind and he immediately felt unsettled. He had been out with Rose last night, but he didn't remember where they went or what they did. Perhaps he just had too much to drink - but he didn't think that was right. He rarely drank to excess. Scorpious shook his head; life with Rose had been rarely predictable.

To distract himself he moved on to the next picture on the fireplace. This one taken a little over six years ago on the day he graduated from Hogwarts. The look in his younger self's eyes was so determined, as if he were ready to take on the wizarding world single handed. Scorpious smiled to himself. He never would have guessed the twists and turns his life had taken. What he wanted then and what he wanted now were totally different things. What he wanted then seemed possible, even probable. What he wanted now seemed impossible.

The door to the drawing room opened and his father entered.

"Scorpious, it has been too long since we have seen you home for dinner."

"You, as well as anyone, know how business can occupy your time," Scorpious answered.

Draco snorted. "Business? That isn't what I've heard." He wiped some dust off of the top of the mantel and rubbed it between his finger tips. "I wonder if it isn't an attractive young American that has taken all your time as of late."

Scorpious felt the blood rush to his face; he hoped the dim light hid his reaction. "Yes, well, I have enjoyed Miss Burk's company a few times since the festival."

"Have you? You know, Scorpious, I have heard talk." Draco looked his son in the eyes, a serious expression on his face. "Miss Burk's repeated returns to England aren't truly for business as she claims."

Scorpious' heart began to pound. "Not as she claims? What do you mean?"

Draco's face turned into a warm smile. "Not to worry, son. It's obvious how you feel about her. And if she is making excuses to come to London just to see you, well, it's obvious that she returns your feelings."

Scorpious breathed a sigh of relief. "So you do not object to my seeing Miss Burk, Father?"

"Your mother and I would have liked you to have chosen a young woman from our own society, of course, but we also understand that the heart can not always be controlled. And as long as she carries the Burk family name, you have our blessing."

Scorpious' heart sank but he smiled for his father's benefit.

"Thank you father, I do care about her." He turned his back to his father and looked again at the photos on the walls. "In fact, I think she is the best thing that has ever happened to me." It was the most honest thing Scorpious had said to his father in a long time. "I just hope we can find a way to bridge our family's differences."

"I'm sure it won't be a problem," Draco said, putting his hand on Scorpious' shoulder in as an affectionate a gesture as his father ever gave him.

"Oh," said Draco, "Speaking of Miss Burk, I almost forgot." He reached into his jacket pocket. "An owl arrived for you right as I came home. Ah, here it is." Draco handed him a small rolled parchment.

"It's from Juliet," Scorpious said, a bit of nervousness rising in his chest. "May I have some privacy? Do you mind?" he asked is father.

"Ah, young love. I hope it is kind to you." Draco patted him on the shoulder one last time and headed for the door. "Your mother said that dinner will be ready in ten minutes."

Scorpious eagerly unrolled the parchment and read Rose's words. So he wasn't alone in his memory loss. He would go to her as soon as he could politely make excuse to leave.

* **

Hermione had spent all evening with Harry, sitting at his dining room table, viewing snatches of their memories from the day of the abduction. Those blurs and flashes, when slowed down, were the Phoenix Bank Vice President's memories, as they had suspected. What they hadn't suspected was the content of those memories. Images of the vice president collecting information about the contents of various vaults, secretly giving himself broader security access to those areas, ensuring that certain protocols were overlooked, rearranging staff, and then actually committing the crime.

Harry poured the silvery liquid from his pensive back into a labeled glass jar and corked it. "So he did it," he said.

"It appears so," Hermione said. "It was a bold idea really, locking all your memories into one dark place in your mind. He must have made his conscious mind totally unaware those memories even existed."

"Not to mention the crime itself. Brilliant. Nearly flawless." Harry considered for a moment. "Have you ever heard of something like this before Hermione? I mean, I've heard of people suppressing memories somewhat, but even Professor Snape, who was a master Occlumens, couldn't block all his memories from _Legilimency_. That's why he always removed them to the pensive before our sessions."

"I've thought of that, and I've wondered why the vice president would even volunteer for Legilimency at all if he was hiding such a big secret? He didn't have to do it. He wasn't even a suspect."

"That's a good question. Was he just trying to appear innocent? Did he think his mental barrier could hold up or did he forget it was there all together? And why did the memories explode out that way?" Harry asked. "I've never heard of that happening before."

"I did do some research on that." Hermione reached down and pulled several large volumes and her notes out of her bag. "There have been a few cases where people have learned to broadcast out thoughts to others." She ran her finger down her parchment. "Salesmen that broadcast out urgent needs to buy their products, Healers that broadcast out positive thoughts to their patients, that sort of thing. But all of that was subtle and suggestive at best. I didn't find any record of this sort of crippling mental explosion we experienced. Or any mental messages that were sent out with that kind of force."

"So what do you think caused it?" Harry asked.

Hermione shrugged. "I honestly don't know. But it obviously was something very dangerous. Once it happened he couldn't even control it."

"I've already got some Aurors working on this; I'll let them know what we've found. I just hope this is just an isolated incident and not our fist encounter with some new dark magic that's going around."

"I'd better give Magical Law Enforcement the heads up too," Hermione said.

"We should call in every bank employee of the recently burglarized banks who could have had potential access to commit these crimes. Maybe we can find others with this same mental door."

"I don't know if you can do that, Harry. You don't have the legal grounds. You know there are strict laws against unreasonable Legilimency. You just can't go out and bring in people without just cause. You can ask them to volunteer, but that's about it."

Harry grunted. "Well, let just hope they all volunteer then."

"And our bank vice-president turned abductor? Will you send him to Azkaban until trial?"

"He isn't going anywhere at the moment. I'll have him charged tomorrow, after I enter our memory strands as evidence. We'll keep guard on him at St Mungo's. Maybe the Healers there can tell us what happened with his mind."

"I better write out a statement to go with my memory strand. You too, Harry."

"Good idea." Harry stood and walked over to a drawer and pulled out some parchment and quills.

As they started to write they fell into a comfortable silence interrupted only by the scratching of quills and the tick of the clock. As Hermione glanced up at Harry, bent over the table writing, she thought of all the times in her life he had sat with Harry this way. It was all so familiar and in an unexpected way, comforting. Harry looked up and caught her eyes on him. She immediately turned her face back down to her parchment.

When they were finished they set their parchments aside and moved to the living room. Hermione made herself comfortable on the sofa while Harry went to fix some spiced tea.

While she waited, she looked around the room and noticed that Harry had done some redecorating. A new painting hung on the wall, new pictures of Harry Jr. sat on the side table. There even seemed to be new throw pillows on the sofa. She had to admit that Harry seemed to be moving on with his life. At least it appeared so on the surface. But Hermione had known Harry too long to believe everything was fine. Harry buried things deep and he had a hard time confiding in people, even people who he was close too.

Truth be told, she was still worried about him. The harsh way he treated her abductor and the strong way he reacted when it was all over. Something about it wasn't quite right, something in his eye and his tone of voice. Hermione couldn't put her finger on it but she knew that something was stirring underneath Harry's calm exterior. Was this just residual anger from the loss of his wife, or something more?

Harry brought in two steaming mugs and handed one to Hermione and then took one himself. He sat next to her, wrapped both hands around the cup and breathed in deeply the warm sent, letting out a tired, ragged breath.

Hermione just held her cup and watched Harry. This time when he looked up at her, she didn't look away, but took in his features and the deepness of his green eyes. He was a puzzle and for a moment Hermione thought that if she looked long enough maybe she could figure him out.

Harry met her gaze. As if he read her questions, he put down his cup and leaned back. "It's been a tough week."

"Has it?" she asked.

"Does it ever get easier?"

She knew exactly what he was asking. "A bit. It takes awhile, but eventually you find ways to fill the emptiest parts with other things. But the hurt never totally goes away, not really."

Harry reached up and rubbed his temples with one hand. "I can't get through a day without thinking about her, Hermione. It's like the emptiness is always there, at the back of my mind."

"I felt that way too. Then one day, about six months after Ron died, I got home late from work and, as I was getting ready for bed, I realized that I hadn't thought of Ron all day, not even once."

"Really?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. I felt horrible, like I had betrayed him by forgetting him."

"That's not true."

"Of course not. I've since realized that I wasn't forgetting, I was just moving on with my life. It's natural. It's what I had to do." The memories of that dark time flooded back for a moment but Hermione fought to keep them in check. It would not do to show tears to Harry now.

"Do you know what I miss the most?" He said quietly. "I miss her just being here, being here in the house. Even when I had to travel on an assignment or right before OWLS or NEWTS when Ginny would practically live at Hogwarts for days at a time, it was alright because I knew this was our home and that no matter how long one of us would be away we would always return."

Hermione nodded knowingly but didn't speak.

"Hermione, I know it was hard for you when Ron died, it was hard for me too, but I had no idea. How have you survived it?"

"I came here a lot," she said. Harry looked surprised. "Oh Harry, you must remember. I was here all the time after Ron died. With Hugo at Hogwarts and Rose at the Auror Academy I couldn't stand to be alone at my house. You and Ginny are my family, after all. You took me in. In a lot of ways you…saved me."

Harry shook his head. "I had no idea it was that important to you. I knew you were hurting and we were always happy to have you over. But I never realized… Hermione, I'm so sorry." Harry's voice cracked and he looked down at his hands.

Hermione reached out and took Harry's hands in hers. "Sorry for what? You were wonderful to me then."

"If I had known, I would have been a better friend. I would have helped you more."

"You and Ginny took me in. I couldn't have asked for more, and frankly I wouldn't have wanted more from you. You helped me as much as you could, all the rest I had to work through on my own. Like you've been doing."

Harry grasped Hermione's hand more tightly. "I know I've been pushing you away these past few months. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. I just didn't know how else to deal with it."

"You like to suffer alone, you always have, I know that. I haven't minded giving you your space. I could have done without your bad moods though."

"You're a good friend." Harry squeezed her hand. "I'm glad you're still in my life."

"We're too old of friends for you ever to drive me away. Just trust let me be there for you. Okay?"

"Alright." Harry and Hermione shared a smile.

Harry looked down at their hands and then pulled his away and wrapped it back around his cup. He cleared is throat. "Hermione?" he began, "what are you doing next Monday night?"

"Next Monday? Isn't that Christmas Eve?" Harry nodded. The Weasleys and the Potters always spent Christmas Day together, but the night before Christmas, Christmas Eve, had always been a night for individual family festivities. Hermione always tried to get together with Hugo and Rose. Last year she spent most of the evening alone in a hot bath with a good book. This year, with Hugo drawing farther and father away from her and Rose so busy with work Hermione had expected another night alone. "I haven't given it much thought. Why do you ask?"

"I know our families will get together for Christmas day, but seeing as all my kids all have other plans that night and if you aren't doing anything, I wondered if you wanted to spend that evening together."

Hermione smiled. "That sounds nice."

* * *

_Thanks again to my beta reader Angelinthecrowd, who seems to think I need to use a lot more commas than I do. _


End file.
